


The Spirit Of Christmas

by Laurelin (Lintelomiel)



Category: The Hobbit RPF
Genre: Airports, Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Blow Jobs, Christmas, Christmas Eve, Christmas Smut, Drinking, Drunken Kissing, First Meetings, Lust at First Sight, M/M, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Sharing a Bed, Sharing a Room
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-08 17:42:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5506925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lintelomiel/pseuds/Laurelin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a winter storm paralyzes New York on December 24th, Richard finds himself stranded at the airport and forced to reconcile himself with the prospect of a lonely and miserable Christmas, far from friends and family and with only a bottle of whisky for company. A chance meeting with another stranded traveler, however, may just save him from that fate - and teach him that even when you don't get what you expect, the results can be far sweeter than you could ever have imagined.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Spirit Of Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> My thanks as always to eucatastrophe__x for beta and morale boosting duties <3

([X](https://richleefanficcovers.tumblr.com/post/159921841497/title-the-spirit-of-christmas-author-wirkmood))

For some people, waking up was like flipping a switch. They opened their eyes, turned off the blaring alarm clock and got up, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, ready to meet the day with a smile.

Richard was not one of those people. For him, waking up was not instantaneous but a gradual process that included snoozing the alarm as many times as he could get away with. And even when he finally did drag himself out of bed, his sleep-sluggish brain usually didn't catch up until he had showered and was sitting at the kitchen table with a steaming mug of coffee and a plate of toast and eggs in front of him.

So when he came to lying clothed on top of strange sheets, with a pounding head and a crick in his neck from the equally unfamiliar pillow, it didn't immediately register that something was off. Sure, his tongue felt like a dry sponge and his temples were throbbing and he could literally hear his vertebrae creaking and snapping into place as he tentatively stretched his back, but then again, he was probably jetlagged from the long flight and ever so slightly hung-over from a boozy Christmas Eve dinner with the family, and the strangeness of the bed and his surroundings could logically be attributed to the fact that he'd been talked into staying in his parents' guestroom and maybe his Mum had switched to a different detergent since the last time he visited?

When he finally managed to crack his eyes open, even the modern feel of the room and the conspicuous absence of rose-patterned wallpaper didn't disturb him too much. After all, his Mum had been making noises about redecorating for a while, so apparently his Dad had finally caved and given her free rein (along with his credit card). No surprises there.

The presence of another body pressed up against his, however, was not something that his foggy brain could explain quite so easily.

His first thought was of Paul - but no, even when sleep-drunk, Richard didn't need much to remember that Paul hadn't slept curled around him like this for ten months. Longer than that, actually, because the physical affection between them had started to shrivel away even before the breakup, efficiently smothered by their incessant arguing (and not the kind of arguing that resulted in earth-shattering reconciliation sex but the draining, going-in-circles kind of arguing that always brought them back to the same impasse: Paul wanted to move to Bahrain - his firm was offering him the opportunity to head a prestigious project there that would keep him busy for the next few years at least - and Richard decidedly did not).

Upon reflection, the arms curled around his waist very definitely weren't Paul's. They were longer, slenderer, finer-boned in the wrist. One of those wrists was sporting a silver watch Richard had never seen before, a very nice analogue that told him it was 9.32 AM.

Realization was slowly starting to trickle in. It was Christmas morning, but instead of waking up to the smell of fresh croissants and the sound of his nieces' and nephews' laughter as they crawled all over him and jumped on the bed bragging about the size of the presents that had magically appeared under the tree overnight, he found himself in a strange bed with a strange man's limbs wrapped around him. It was very peculiar, and more than a little disquieting. When he tried to ease out of the embrace, however - it would not do to move too roughly and wake the other up before he'd had a chance to properly assess the situation - his bed partner mumbled in unconscious protest and reeled him back in before dozing on, oblivious.

Richard lay still for a moment or two, reflecting on the oddness of his predicament and willing the fog clouding his brain to lift before trying to extricate himself a second time, only to have those arms squeezing tighter about him and a pair of staggeringly soft lips murmuring his name against the nape of his neck. _  
_

And it was that - hearing his name spoken in that somehow oddly familiar voice - that brought it all back in a flash of clarity.

_Lee._

Oh, of course.

How could he have forgotten? Even given the fact that it usually took a while for his brain to get moving in the morning, the previous day's events merited remembering for a variety of reasons.

He had made his way to the airport the day before, hoping against hope that the somber-faced CNN weatherman had in fact been too pessimistic and that the blizzard that was predicted to hit New York at the least opportune time of year - the day before Christmas - would not be as bad as all that. But when he got to the main terminal and saw the monitors showing the departing flights flashing red, he felt his heart sink a little. Fearing the worst, he checked for his flight number.

NEWARK - LONDON HEATHROW: DELAYED.

The information desk was under siege from travelers demanding an explanation, and when Richard finally got to the front of the queue the frazzled-looking airport employee couldn't tell him much other than that he should stick around and wait for additional information. "But I wouldn't check my luggage in just yet, sir."

Well, shit.

He called his parents to let them know about the situation, promising to keep them in the loop about any new developments and gently preparing them for the possibility that he might not make it home in time for Christmas Eve - or, god forbid, the big day itself. Optimism was not Richard's strong suit, as Paul had frequently pointed out, and transatlantic traveling was not known to bring out the best in him. It was probably not a coincidence that the relationship had ended on the flight back to New York after Richard's last family visit in February. He did not remember much from that flight except that it had been the longest and most unpleasant seven and a half hours of his life and that members of the cabin crew had given him sympathetic looks as he finally disembarked the plane. One of the male flight attendants, whom Richard recognized as the one who had brought them complimentary drinks, went a little further and unsubtly slipped him an airline napkin with a name - Chase - and a phone number scribbled on it. Raw from the breakup (they’d been together for two and a half years, after all, and while he had seen it coming, if he was honest with himself, he hadn’t expected things to end quite like this), Richard hadn't made the call, but had held on to the number probably longer than was dignified, trying to find solace in the fact that he was still deemed young and attractive enough to be propositioned.

In short, Richard and airports did not go well together, and the prospect of having to loiter around in one waiting for updates - especially at such a busy time of year - did not appeal in the slightest.

With the help of a takeaway triple espresso and a croissant, Richard managed to stick it out in the main terminal for about twenty minutes before the constant hustle and bustle started getting on his nerves and he grudgingly acknowledged that if he valued his sanity, he had better do his waiting elsewhere. He set the airline app on his phone so that it sent notifications pertaining to his flight, binned the empty coffee cup and trudged off in search of a quiet corner, dragging his suitcase behind him.

He spent the next few hours glued to a bar stool in a tucked-away airport cafe that had both a Krups machine and a well-stocked spirits display that might prove useful later, drinking too much coffee and trying to summon some interest for the inevitable sports on TV, which was interrupted every half hour by news reports, including updates on the blizzard situation. The winter storm was moving in from the Atlantic, and Richard had to concede that the satellite images did not look the least bit promising, especially in terms of transatlantic flights. He periodically sent text messages to his parents, who were also watching the reports on their end and encouraged him to keep a calm head and stay where he was.

It wasn't like he had his choice of options, anyway.

Boarding and departure time came and went while the status of his flight - as well as that of almost all the others - remained invariably the same: DELAYED. Incoming flights were cancelled or diverted to other airports, and the twice-hourly reports showed the storm front touching land and ominous snow clouds gathering over New York. It wasn't long before some reporter tracked down the mayor, who - bundled in a thick coat and scarf and hat - echoed the experts' words about this potentially being the worst storm in thirty years and advising his fellow citizens to stay safe and only travel when absolutely necessary.

"Now he tells us," said a voice unexpectedly close to Richard, laced with something he hadn't heard a lot of that day - mirth. He swiveled around, part startled part curious, to see who had spoken, and was met by a wide, surprised smile so lovely that he forgot his woes on the spot. All morning he'd been surrounded by grouchy travelers, complaining about the sorry state of things and the lack of communication from the various airlines as well as the airport itself, and here was a man who must be just as stranded as the rest of them and yet his smile - god, his _smile_ \- could have lit the whole room.

"Oh sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," the man said. "Not the first time that's happened - I talk to myself a lot, and am pretty good at sneaking up on people, or so I've been told." He made the confession with a soft, self-deprecating laugh.

"It's okay," Richard blurted, making a concerted effort to drag his gaze away from the fullness and very pleasing curve of the man's lips. Once he did, however, he was glad for it, because the rest of his face was at least as easy on the eyes as that extremely kissable mouth.

It was only after several long moments that Richard became aware of the fact that the man was watching him expectantly, waiting for a proper response, and that Richard was staring back slack-jawed.

_For fuck's sake, Armitage, say something._

"It's okay," he said again, scolding himself for being so unimaginative and scrambling for coherency. "I'm sorry, it's just that, er..."

_It's just that you're so bloody gorgeous I can't even think straight._

"I didn't see you standing there," he finally offered, rather lamely.

"I just got here," the man said by way of explanation, Richard’s pathetic attempts to explain his gaping not seeming to deter him in the slightest, and he raised his hand to draw the attention of the girl behind the bar. "Coffee, please." And with a glance at Richard's empty cup: "Refill for you?"

"I feel like I've had too many already," Richard confessed. "One more will have me crawling up the walls."

"Been here a while, then?"

"Since three."

The man whistled. "Which flight?"

"British Airways 185 to London. Takeoff should have been an hour ago. You?"

"United 1161 to Houston. Not supposed to board for another ninety minutes, but things don't look too promising, do they?"

"They don't, I'm afraid." Richard sighed and glanced at his mobile for what must have been the millionth time since his arrival at the bar. "I was on a tight schedule to begin with; supposed to have dinner fresh off the plane, but now I’m not even sure that I’m going to make it in time for dessert."

"Yeah, I better call my parents to clue them in." The man gave Richard another open, friendly smile. "I'm Lee, by the way."

Richard took the proffered hand and squeezed it slightly. "Richard."

"Hi, Richard." Lee squeezed back, their fingers sliding together casually as they let go, and he gestured at the empty stool next to Richard's. "Mind if I sit?"

Richard couldn't say that he did - in fact, he found he didn't even mind being held up at the airport all that much anymore as the man - Lee - settled in next to him and smiled at the bartender as she brought him his coffee. God, what an absolutely beautiful smile that man had on him (a fact that clearly wasn't lost on the girl either, as she blushed becomingly and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear).

Richard had been lucky enough to see a lot more of that smile, as they started talking to kill the time and didn't stop all day, discussing their now potentially defunct Christmas plans before the conversation moved into more personal waters. For some reason - quite possibly related to the funny flip his stomach did every time Lee turned those hazel eyes on him - Richard revealed much more about himself than he would have to the average random stranger, telling Lee about his upbringing in 1970's Leicester as the third son of fairly conservative middle-class parents, always feeling like he walked out of step with the rest of his family. It wasn't just the gay thing, although that was a big part of it; equally damning was the fact that although he'd done the good son routine and studied accounting like his brothers Peter and Greg (Armitage & Sons Accounting, the family firm, was always looking to add that elusive fourth partner, especially now that his father was headed for retirement) he'd carved out a very different career path for himself. In addition to accounting, he'd finished a degree in archeology, his true love - and no sooner did he have the coveted paper in his hands than he was on a plane to New York for a year-long postgraduate internship at a small but prestigious - and internationally renowned - museum, by recommendation of his well-connected professor who thought he'd make an impression there. Well, he must have, given the fact that he still worked there more than ten years later, having climbed his way up to the position of senior curator _slash_ lecturer _slash_ researcher.

He loved the job - a major reason for passing on Bahrain was the fact that jobs in the field of classical archeology were very thin on the ground there - but the pressing deadline for the upcoming Cerveteri exhibit had kept him busy up until last night, which meant taking the last possible flight to London. It had been far from ideal to begin with - family dinners could be a trying exercise at the best of times, so the thought of arriving for one in the nick of time with nary a minute to shower and shave didn't exactly appeal - but it was vastly preferable to spending the day before Christmas stuck in transit at the bloody airport.

At least, so he had thought right up until the moment he laid eyes on Lee. Richard liked to think that he was old and wise enough not to have his head turned by a pretty face - and a full, soft mouth, boyish smile, nice set of shoulders and what appeared to be a long, extremely bitable neck (yes, Richard noticed and spared a moment of gratitude for Lee's open coat and untied scarf, hanging long and loose about his shoulders) - but damn it, he'd been single for a long time and rather than throwing himself back into the snake pit that was dating in New York City, he'd thrown himself into the job.

Which was a nice way of saying that he was all kinds of horny and wouldn't exactly say no to a fuck - or even a slow, thorough blowjob - if it was on offer. The twitch of agreement in his nether regions reminded him that yes, it had definitely been far too long since he’d had a warm body in the bed next to him. Unfortunately, he didn't know if Lee even swung the same way he did, or if the lingering of his fingers when they shook hands had been accidental or a figment of his imagination. It sure seemed as though a spark of a mutual attraction had passed between them, but Richard wouldn't have put money on a hunch - he had been wrong before.

Lee seemed fascinated by Richard's choice of career, explaining that he'd become interested in archeology after his school had arranged a trip to an excavation site when he was twelve and that he'd started digging for historical artifacts in his backyard until his mother put a stop to it. It was not something he had ever pursued as a potential career, preferring to work with live people rather than study civilizations from ages past, but he enthusiastically promised Richard to check out the exhibition once it opened.

Richard learned that Lee worked as a career counselor for a small firm, something he found incredibly fulfilling because it allowed him to help people navigate their way through the jungle that was the present-day job market. His favorite part of the job, he told Richard, were the jubilant - even tear-filled - phone calls he received from clients who'd just been hired, sometimes after months or years of unemployment. From the way Lee's eyes lit up as he spoke, Richard could tell that Lee was passionate about what he did and that he enjoyed talking about it, which made listening to him even more pleasant. _  
_

They spent some time discussing their respective favorite hangouts in New York, amused to discover that they shared more than one, and Lee confided that it had taken him a while to find his footing after he made the move over, feeling like a country boy lost in the big city. He'd grown up in Houston, but weekends and school holidays were often spent at his grandparents' farm upstate, Lee and his younger brother and sister getting up early to help milk the cows and gather eggs in the henhouse. In summer he'd often gone swimming in the nearby reservoir where all the farmers' kids went, he'd learned how to drive in his grandfather's pick-up truck and smoked his first joint behind the barn where, coincidentally, he'd also had his first kiss the previous summer.

What else Lee had gotten up to in the haystacks - and with whom - remained unclear, leaving Richard having to guess as to whether Lee had dated girls or boys (or both). His relationship status never came up in the conversation, although Richard took some encouragement from the fact that Lee never mentioned a significant other.

Talking to Lee made the waiting hours go by surprisingly quickly. The bar became increasingly more crowded as time went on and the atmosphere eventually evolved into a rather merry one as the stranded travelers tried to make the most of the situation. There was pool playing, spontaneous singing, and jeering and catcalling at every rerun of the mayor's interview. Eventually the TV was turned off. Not that Richard really took notice of anything happening around him - his attention was on Lee and Lee alone, and he thanked his lucky stars for having claimed this bar stool when he did, for it was the best seat in the house as far as he was concerned and he wasn't giving it up for any price. They bought each other drink after drink, ordering finger food when they got an appetite, and the girl behind the bar was throwing them increasingly meaningful glances, as though she were witnessing something quite entertaining. Richard wished he could talk to her alone for a minute, ask her how she estimated his chances, because it sure seemed like she had some thoughts on the matter.

It was well into the afternoon when Lee stated he'd had enough of soda pops and coffee. "Do you think it would be socially acceptable to move onto stronger things now?"

"I don't think anyone here would look at us askew if we did," Richard said, gazing around. Alcohol was already flowing abundantly. "Anyway, it wouldn't be the holidays if we didn't get appropriately pissed. I mean drunk," he amended with an embarrassed grin when Lee gave him a puzzled look.

Lee laughed, grasping Richard's shoulder and giving it a companionable squeeze. "What's your poison? For some reason I have you pegged as the wine type. Red, right?" He laughed again when Richard merely blushed in response. "Yeah, thought so. You have that _je ne sais quoi_ , that air of sophistication about you. First round's on me."

It was only when Richard's cell phone started buzzing that he realized he had spent the better half of a day at the airport and that he hadn't sent his family updates for the last few hours (not that there had been any news to report, but still). All around him people were reaching for their phones as well, as the airport had just sent out the definitive announcement that all outgoing flights had been cancelled until further notice, with their deepest apologies for the inconvenience. The news didn't cause much of a stir among the bar crowd - most people had already resigned themselves to the inevitable - and although some grabbed their coats and left, most stayed put and ordered another drink. Richard tapped a quick update to his parents and pocketed his mobile, glancing sideways at Lee who seemed to be doing the same. "Well, I guess I'll be having pizza for Christmas dinner."

"You seem to be taking it remarkably well," Lee observed. "You've been here since three this morning, waiting all this time, for nothing."

Richard looked down into his wine glass, a slow blush creeping up his neck and determination solidifying in his chest. Fuck, if he didn't say something now, he may just lose his only shot. "It doesn't feel like it was for nothing."

Lee looked at him in surprise, a pleased smile curving his mouth and crinkling the corners of his eyes. Richard relaxed and let the air escape from his lungs, relieved that his boldness was met so favorably, and no, it wasn't just his imagination - there was definitely something here. A certain look, a smile, a promise of things possibly yet to come.

"You know what," Lee said, "I think they do pizza here as well. Unless you would rather go and find a Pizza Hut or something?"

Richard's responding grin was so wide that it hurt his face. "I'm incredibly comfortable right here, actually."

"So am I."

The girl took their orders and brought their steaming pizzas twenty minutes later, refilling their glasses without being asked. "This round is on me, gentlemen," she said with a wink. "It's the end of my shift, and I wish it wasn't, because I really want to know what happens next." Richard cleared his throat in embarrassment over being called out on his flirting in front of Lee, who bumped his knee against his, possibly in reassurance (but also possibly in something slightly less innocuous – a thought that Richard tried his best not to dwell on, just in case he was reading the signs wrong). They thanked the girl for the first-rate service and pooled their cash together to slip her a hefty tip.

After their improvised but excellent dinner (while Lee had initially recoiled at the pizza Richard ordered - chicken, artichoke and blue cheese - curiosity had won out in the end, and Richard smirked triumphantly when Lee suggested that they swap a piece each before conceding that the blue cheese was “actually quite nice”), they'd upgraded to stronger spirits. Lee nearly killed himself laughing when Richard choked on one of the complimentary 'Santa shots' the bar was serving, a layered cocktail of grenadine, creme de menthe and peppermint schnapps. "Bloody hell, that's disgusting," Richard gasped out, the alcohol burning in his throat, and Lee giggled, rubbing his back while Richard coughed and wheezed and wiped the tears from his eyes, all the while musing on the adorableness of that giggle and how he wanted to hear it again and again.

When the bar had started to empty in earnest, they'd made their way to the desks of their respective airlines to see if they could reschedule their flights, only to be told that all flights for the next day were fully booked and that their best option was a spot on the waiting list. The British Airways employee had a professional expression plastered on her face, but her red-rimmed eyes told Richard that she may have been shouted at by more than one disgruntled passenger, so he made sure to give her a heartfelt smile for her trouble and to wish her a merry Christmas. Maybe it was selfish of him, but he really wasn't in such a rush to get to London anymore. She gave him a grateful smile back and wished him the same, advising him to keep his phone close at hand. "You never know."

"Wanna share a cab back to the city?" Lee proposed as they made their way to the exit with their suitcases in tow, and Richard nodded eagerly, relieved that the deciding moment would be delayed a little longer. He hadn't done this in quite a while and he had yet to gather the courage to ask for Lee's phone number, because sometime between pizzas and cocktail shots he'd reached the conclusion that he definitely didn’t want this to be the last he saw of the man. His physical attributes aside (including but not limited to a lovely, expressive face and a gorgeous pair of hands that made Richard think all the wrong things), Lee possessed a variety of personality traits Richard found incredibly attractive. He was unfailingly optimistic (a trait he claimed to have inherited from his grandfather, who hadn't even stopped smiling when a bushfire destroyed a year's worth of crops and very nearly made him homeless), people-oriented and equally friendly to everyone he interacted with, including the girl behind the bar. Richard could not help but hearken back to the way Paul used to treat servers like they were beneath him, which had resulted in many an uncomfortable dinner date for Richard, who'd often secretly left huge tips behind to make up for his companion's boorish behavior. Lee also had the endearing tendency to start laughing halfway through a funny anecdote he was telling, and his laughter was so infectious that he didn't even have to finish the story in order for Richard to join in.

As soon as they stepped outside, however, it became apparent that reaching the city was going to be problematic. It was snowing heavily - the world was already covered in a thick white blanket, and the freezing wind whipped in their faces. Somehow, tucked away in their cozy bar for hours on end with the TV switched off, they had managed to completely forget why their flights had been grounded in the first place. Lee turned up his collar and tied his scarf around his neck. "Well, shit," he said lightly, but Richard thought that he didn't actually sound all that upset - not more so than Richard felt, anyway.

There were only a handful of available cabs waiting at the rank, but the first driver they approached wasn’t exactly as positive as he could have been when they asked what he could do for them. "Manhattan? Forget it," he said in a thick Brooklyn accent. "The whole city is jammed. I can drop you off at a hotel somewhere nearby but that's about it."

Richard and Lee looked at each other for a second. "That's not such a bad idea, actually," Lee said. "You never know, one of us may get bumped up the waiting list and put on a flight at the last minute."

“Yeah,” Richard agreed, struggling to stay rational even though his brain was quickly going into meltdown at the thought of spending the night in a hotel with Lee - he definitely wasn't focused on the practicalities of staying close to the airport so much as the opportunity to spend more time with the man he was madly attracted to and wouldn't mind sharing a nightcap with. “And," he added, dragging his thoughts back to the present, "we have our overnight stuff with us anyway.”

As it turned out, though, there were many others who had had the same idea, and the first two hotels they tried had no rooms available. They had a laugh about the irony of it in the cab on the way to their next option. "Fingers crossed we don't have to spend the night in a stable," Lee joked.

The third hotel had one last room available - and, coincidentally, it was a double. Lee turned a questioning gaze on Richard. "You want to keep looking?"

The fact that Lee left the decision to him - and didn't seem too keen on going out there again - Richard thought was telling. He swallowed, his throat painfully dry all of a sudden. Ignoring the logical part of his brain that told him this was potentially a very bad idea, he met Lee's gaze and blurted out his answer, sensibility be damned. "Actually, I'm fine with sharing if you are."

Lee gave him a sneaky little smile before turning back to the hotel receptionist. "We'll take the room." He straightened his shoulders with a pleased smile and reached up to ruffle the snow out of his hair, something that Richard wouldn't have minded doing for him. "Well," he said drily as he unwound his scarf from around his neck, a motion that Richard found utterly hypnotizing, "home sweet home."

The room was the smallest double Richard had ever seen - the queen sized bed took up most of it and the en suite was equipped with one of those horrendous shower/bath combinations Richard hated with every fiber of his being - but the bed at least looked long enough to hold both of them and was definitely a better alternative to spending the night camping at the airport (or, god forbid, in a stable). Seeing that bed really drove home the fact that he was about to spend the night with someone who was barely more than a stranger, something he hadn't done since he was much younger and living it up as a single gay man in the London clubbing scene.

The night got off to a platonic start, however, as they opted to watch a sentimental Christmas movie on the boxy TV of their hotel room, stretched out on the bed with the bottle of whisky Richard had bought for his Dad as a Christmas present and several tiny bags of nuts Lee had come up with after raiding the mini bar. At first they drank the whisky from two plastic cups they'd found in the bathroom, but after a while they gave up on that in favor of swigging straight from the bottle, and Richard privately conceded that he was definitely on the way to getting very drunk indeed. And the more intoxicated he became, the less attention he paid to the film and the faster his thoughts spiraled down into absolute filth - filth involving the gorgeous, long-legged man next to him (who happened to smell really nice as well). God, but how exhilarating it would be to press him down into the bed and straddle him and plunder his mouth to taste its depths and press their chests together and...

Had they even made it to the end of the movie before passing out? Richard had difficulty remembering, mind still foggy with sleep and occupied with the feeling of Lee's arms around his waist and Lee's body pressed to his back, the long hand of his watch ticking to 9.41 as he sighed in his sleep and nuzzled closer still. Richard swallowed, suddenly acutely aware of the foul taste in his mouth. If Lee came to right now, it just wouldn't do. The man deserved better than to wake up next to a hung-over bed partner with bad breath, especially on Christmas morning.

Richard finally managed to untangle himself from Lee's arms carefully enough that the other man didn't wake, and sat up to take in the mess. The TV was still on, the sound switched off, and the empty whisky bottle lay propped up on one of the pillows next to Richard. Scattered on top of the bed all around him were pistachio shells, and that sight brought back some memories of its own.

Sleeping Lee made for an endearing sight. Like Richard, he was still in yesterday's clothes, although he'd taken off his Christmas jumper, a present from his mother the year before. He was dressed in black jeans and a now rumpled white T-shirt that set off his arms to advantage. His hair was mussed up too, and that only served to make the whole picture just that bit more pleasing. The image of Lee ruffling the snow out of his hair the night before came to mind, and Richard couldn't resist softly sliding his fingers through it (and yes, it was exactly as silky as it looked) before getting up, cleaning up the mess as best he could and stealthily opening his suitcase to get his toothbrush and some clean clothes that did not in fact reek of booze and stale sweat. Lee was still soundly asleep when he slipped into the bathroom and carefully closed the door behind him.

He indulged himself with a long, hot shower, letting the jets pound his shoulders and neck until he felt his headache receding somewhat. By the time he was dressed, groomed and done brushing his teeth, he felt mostly human again, so he slipped out into the hallway for a minute and called his parents to let them know the latest news and wish them a merry Christmas. His call was met with relief; having seen footage of post-blizzard New York on the news, they were worried that he may not have made it home, so he told them that he had indeed spent the night at a hotel near the airport. The fact that he had had company was something he did not feel compelled to share in the slightest.

"Well, we'll save your presents for you, darling," his mother said at the end of the ten minute conversation. "Stay safe, and let us know if anything changes."

"I will, Mum."

After she'd made him repeat the promise a few more times, they hung up, and Richard looked thoughtfully at his mobile for a moment or two before putting it on silent mode. Then he went back into the room, only to discover that Lee had woken up. Richard sat down on the edge of the bed gingerly, not sure what to expect in the harsh light of day. "Hey. Good morning."

"Hey." Lee rolled onto his back and yawned widely, rubbing at his eyes and temples with those impossibly long fingers (the sight of them immediately filling Richard's mind with thoughts of how good they would feel wrapped around his cock and twisting deep inside him, and he chastised himself for going there). "God, my head is killing me."

Richard smiled wryly. "Try taking a shower. Worked wonders for me."

"I slept like a log, though." Lee nodded at the empty bottle and grimaced. "Did we really drink all that whisky?"

"Oh yes, we drank it. Just like we drank all that wine and those cocktail shots at the bar."

"Damn." Lee lay still for a minute, running his tongue along his teeth thoughtfully. "I heard you talking on the phone outside. Was that the airline? Did they find you a flight?"

Richard liked to imagine that he heard a hint of worry in Lee's tone. "No, it was my parents. I called them to let them know I was okay. Apparently the city is in total lockdown after the storm."  


"Huh," Lee murmured, seemingly unimpressed, stretching himself languorously and showing no inclination whatsoever to get up. There was a silence then, Lee's eyes fluttering closed once again, and Richard was at a loss as to what to do.

"So, er," he offered inarticulately, "I guess I'll get out of your hair, then."

At this, Lee's eyes opened again. "What do you mean, get out of my hair? What's the rush? I know you don't have any plans. And where will you go if the city is unreachable?"

"I don't know," Richard said unhappily, and it was the truth - he had no idea what to do with himself on Christmas morning, single and holed up in a depressing hotel and separated from his family by an ocean. Literally the only thing that kept the holidays from being an utter disaster was Lee, but so far he was not giving any sign that he even wanted Richard here.

Lee was fully awake now, rolling onto his side to focus his gaze on Richard. "Is that he kind of man you are?" He softened his words with a teasing smile. "Sleeping with a guy and leaving first thing in the morning? That's brutal, Richard. I thought there was something here." He gestured between them meaningfully. "You kissed me, after all."

Richard's heart leapt. "So you do remember that?"

"Of course I remember that." Lee gave an incredulous little shake of his head. "Did you really think I'd forget a kiss from a beautiful man that easily?"

Richard remembered, too.

They had been watching that movie the night before, passing the bottle back and forth and playfully squabbling over the nuts from the mini bar. Lee spurned the pistachios for being too much effort, so they had fallen to Richard, who rationed them and cracked them methodically, gathering them in a little pile and nibbling from it to make the skimpy handful last as long as he could. Lee had a very different approach, demolishing the two other packets (peanuts and macadamias) in about thirty seconds flat. Richard wasn't bothered, because he had his pistachios and was enjoying them very much, one nibble at a time.

Lee was chatty during the movie, commenting on the things happening on the screen and vocalizing his every thought about them. It came as no surprise - one of the first things the man had pointed out about himself was his tendency to talk, even when no one was there to listen, and his running commentary during the movie was all the proof Richard would ever need of the truth in that statement. If it had been anyone else, it probably would have grated on his nerves, but he was drunk and this was Lee and he was pretty sure that he could listen to the sound of that man's voice all the livelong day, even when it was just meaningless drunken rambling. _Especially_ when it was just meaningless drunken rambling.

After a while, though, Lee gradually became quieter. Richard didn't notice it at first, but as the stretches of silence became longer and longer, he eventually tore his bleary, alcohol-fogged gaze away from the television to look at Lee, only to realize that his attention was no longer on the movie but on Richard's pistachios. He was eyeing them covetously.

"Stop that," Richard chided, at which Lee looked up with a bit of a start.

"What?" he said innocently, his tone at odds with the extremely guilty expression he was sporting.

"You know what I mean," Richard slurred, cupping his hand over the pistachios protectively and angling his body away from Lee slightly. "I see you ogling my nuts."

A slow smile crawled across Lee's face and he bit his lip as if physically holding himself back from making a racy comment. There was a silence then, and the longer it stretched on the more laced with tension it became. Richard's heart was racing under the heat of that laden gaze that went from his eyes to his mouth to the pistachios and back again, and he saw Lee's mouth curling into a mischievous smirk. Before Richard could work out what that smirk meant, however, Lee lunged for the nuts recklessly, laughing as he fought to pry them from Richard's hands. Richard wasn't going to give them up so easily, though.

"Hands off, Pace," he laughed, squirming out of Lee's grasp. "They're _mine_ , you forfeited the right to these delicious pistachios when you made it clear you weren't prepared to put in the work."

It was a short struggle, with no clear winner - because as soon as Lee wrestled Richard down and rolled on top of him to claim dominance, both men promptly forgot what they had been fighting over in the first place and went still, breathing heavily as they stared into each other's eyes with only a few inches between them. All conscious thought fled Richard's mind then, and he dropped the pistachios as he reached up with both hands and took Lee's face between them, sliding shaking fingers through his hair and down the sides of his neck and back up to the nape, all the while gazing up at him reverently. And Lee - thank god - allowed it, keeping himself propped up on both elbows and not resisting in the slightest when Richard pulled him down to his mouth and kissed him timidly, afraid of being rebuffed in spite of the promising signs.

But Lee didn't rebuff him, and the minute their lips touched Richard wanted to weep with how good it felt, Lee's mouth every bit as soft and warm as he had imagined it to be. He squeezed his eyes shut to savor this feeling, to soak it up and let it become ingrained into his memory because god, it had been a long time since he experienced the thrill of a first kiss, of a visceral attraction that may just be reciprocated, a long time also since he felt the weight of another man's body on top of him, their hips slotting together in an amazing - and highly distracting - way.

Eventually Lee pulled away, smiling down at Richard who reluctantly dragged his eyes open. "I wondered how long it would take for you to kiss me," Lee murmured, brushing his fingers along Richard's jaw and slowly down his neck. The gentle touch made Richard ache all over in the best possible way.

"I've thought of nothing else all day," Richard confessed. "I just didn't know-- I wasn't sure you were-"

"Gay? Single? Willing?" Lee chuckled. "As it happens, I am all three."

Richard breathed out slowly. "Thank god."

"I'm more than willing, actually," Lee amended, and this time he leaned down of his own accord, his fingers idly caressing Richard's neck as he tilted his head to the side and his eyes slipping closed at the first soft press of lips.

This time the kiss lingered, Lee teasing Richard with little nudges and nips before kissing him with a little more force and insistence - but not enough for Richard's liking. He surged up impatiently, fingers delving into Lee's hair and trying to pull him down, but the harder he struggled for it the more Lee seemed to retreat, and his groan of frustration was met by a chuckle. "Please, Lee," Richard whispered, his want so desperate that his heart might explode from it, "no playing games."

"I can't resist a beautiful man begging," Lee murmured, and before Richard could form a coherent thought about being called beautiful by the man he'd spent most of the day pining after, Lee swooped down on him again and mercifully, this time it quickly evolved into the kind of kiss Richard yearned for, with Lee's fingertips pressing gently against his jaw until, dazed, he opened his mouth and Lee slid his tongue inside with a low rumble of approval that traveled through Richard's body and made heat pool in his belly. He angled himself up against Lee, offering up his mouth for him to plunder and stroking his hands down his shoulders and his sides. He stopped just shy of the waistband of his jeans, relishing the play of Lee's lower back muscles he felt under his hands for a minute before slipping his fingers under the hem. They encountered another layer of fabric and tugged, desperate to feel warm, bare skin. At the first touch, Lee sighed - and that sigh turned into a moan when Richard's fingers curved and gently scraped against his skin. With one roll of Lee's hips, Richard's heart was stuttering, his blood heating up fast, and he knew that they were rapidly approaching the point of no return.

And then, suddenly, Lee pulled away again, offering Richard the sight of a distractingly flushed and swollen mouth and near-black eyes. "Wait, hang on," he said, wiping at his lips with a stunned look on his face and shaking his head as if to clear it. "Let's take it easy here."

"What's wrong?" Richard panted, staring up at Lee with startled eyes like saucers and withdrawing his hand from inside Lee's jumper and T-shirt. "Shit, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

The euphoria of the kiss was quickly crushed under the steely fist of self-doubt, and he sobered up in an instant. _Richard, you stupid tit, what have you done this time?_

"Don't apologize." Lee's smile was reassuring. "You didn't do anything wrong. Quite the opposite, actually. I just think we should, uh, put a lid on things for now. We are both very drunk and very horny, and having sex right now, however much I want to get you out of these clothes, is not the best idea. It would be over in about five seconds flat and that's not the kind of impression I want to leave."

Richard lowered his eyes and nodded in reluctant agreement. Lee's words made all the sense in the world, but that did not stop the disappointment and self-blame from rising in his throat like bile.

"Hey." Lee tapped Richard's chin until he looked up again. "It's not you, okay? It's not you at all. I did the whole drunken, meaningless sex thing in my twenties, and much as I like to feel young, I don't think this is the way to go about it. I don't want to do anything I may not remember later."

"I don't, either," Richard croaked, and as he looked up into Lee's eyes, a spontaneous confession escaped him. "It's not just the alcohol, you know. I really like you, Lee." He cringed a little at the childish turn of phrase, but Lee didn't seem to mind.

"I really like you too, Richard." A smile and a sweet, chaste kiss took the last of Richard's worries away. "How about we watch the rest of this silly movie, then, because as I recall things were just starting to get interesting."

Richard really couldn't summon any interest in the movie after that, though, choosing instead to dwell on what had just transpired between him and Lee and on the feeling of Lee's firm shoulder pillowed under his cheek. Sometime between finishing the last of the whisky and the end credits, they must have nodded off. It was all rather hazy, and in the light of day Richard had to concede that he'd definitely gone above and beyond his tolerance levels with the alcohol.

However, that kiss Richard remembered with absolute clarity, and knowing that Lee did too - well, it was a relief.

"I did kiss you," he admitted, nodding slowly, "and not because I was drunk. I really am very attracted to you, Lee, but haven't I already monopolized your Christmas enough?"

"Save my Christmas is what you've done." Lee reached out to cover Richard's hand with his own. "No way I'm going to let you abandon me here at this godforsaken hotel, Richard, especially on Christmas Day."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive." A roguish smile materialized on Lee's smile, and his fingers curled around Richard's hand, tugging in what felt like an invitation, albeit a coy one. "How about you get closer?"

There was something in Lee's eyes and tone of voice that caused Richard's mouth to go dry. "How much closer?"

"A lot closer." Lee chuckled. "We already did the sleazy hotel thing, we might as well milk it. No better cure for a hangover, right?"

"But... last night, you said-"

"Last night was last night. We're sober now - and I will definitely remember this."

Before Richard could voice any more objections (all of which would be disingenuous as hell), Lee grabbed him by the front of his shirt with both hands and hauled him in so firmly that Richard barely managed to catch himself in time, their chests almost colliding as he fell forward. All of a sudden he found himself within kissing range of Lee's mouth once more, and it was tempting, too fucking tempting, to lean in those final few inches and kiss those full lips, just to ascertain whether they were as sinfully silky as he remembered.

It didn't exactly help that Lee was clearly waiting for it, face tilted up and eyes glittering and lips slightly parted with the suggestion of a tongue just behind them. One hand released its death grip on Richard's shirt and slowly slid up his chest and the side of his neck, stopping under his jaw. Richard felt a gentle thumb pressing against his Adam's apple and wetted his lips, swallowing reflexively. He saw Lee's eyes glazing over slightly at the movement, his mouth falling open a little further and a tiny gasping noise escaping it, just a soft intake of breath that, paired with the look of want on his face, resonated within Richard's belly. Kissing Lee wasn't a rational decision at that point but an aching need, a desperate gasp for air after minutes under water, and he made the lunge without a thought, Lee's mouth opening eagerly beneath his. It was warm, wet, satiny-soft, and much mintier than Richard had anticipated. The unexpected taste burned on his tongue a little.

"Did you brush your teeth?" he asked, leaning back slightly to look at Lee in surprise.

He received a sheepish look in return. "So did you."

"Yeah, I spent half an hour in the bathroom freshening up. You just woke up like, what, five minutes ago?"

Embarrassment heated up Lee's cheeks and ears visibly. "I may or may not have snuck out of bed while you were outside making that phone call."

"Why?" Richard asked, genuinely confused.

"Why do you think? Because I wanted my mouth to be minty fresh in case we'd pick things up where we left off."

"But why be sneaky about it?"

"I didn't want you to think me presumptuous," Lee murmured, his face now fully ablaze. "I wasn't sure how you felt and if you'd even want to continue in the same vein as last night."

"You weren't sure if I'd still want to kiss you? Lee, I already told you last night it wasn't just the alcohol that drove me to do it the first time."

Lee smiled. "No offense, Rich, but I've learned not to take drunk men's words as fact."

Richard attributed the funny little lurch his heart did to hearing Lee address him by his nickname, as naturally as though he'd done it all his life, and he just stared at him, quite unable to respond. Lee's self-conscious grin slowly faded under the warmth of Richard's besotted gaze, and before either of them could so much as blink they'd dived back in and were locked together in a hungry, furious kiss, chests now fully pressed together, hips just about, and Richard felt Lee's fingers pressing against his scalp and his demanding tongue pushing hotly into his mouth and yes, it was causing a rush of blood to his nether regions so fast that he felt lightheaded with it.

Until, after several moments of heated kissing, Lee wrenched his mouth free with a gasp."Wait," he panted, fingers tangled almost painfully into Richard's hair, "stop."

"Stop?" Richard repeated, the word embedded in a whimper of frustration. This was a little too similar to when Lee had pulled away in the middle of kissing the night before, and Richard felt anxiety and disappointment swooping in his stomach, filling him with the all-too familiar fear that he'd done wrong somehow.

"I just need to know..." Lee's tongue darted across his bottom lip as if to sample the lingering taste Richard's mouth had left behind. His voice lacked breath, which Richard found immensely gratifying. "Do you have anything with you? Condoms? Lube?"

These were not the words Richard had expected to hear coming out of Lee's mouth, and the throbbing in his pants intensified even as his stomach dropped. "Damn it, I don't," he said, "I wasn't exactly expecting to get laid whilst spending the holidays at my parents' house." He felt dangerously close to spilling some choice words. His first chance of getting some in almost a year, and he was going to trip on a stupid practicality.

"That's a shame." Lee didn't look put out for long, though, a mischievous smile taking over his face. "Oh well, I'm sure we can find other ways to take the pressure off."

"What do you mean?" Richard asked dumbly, and Lee chuckled as if he'd just said the most adorable thing in the world, using his leg to roll them both over and reverse their positions. Now it was Richard pinned down on his back, gazing open-mouthed at Lee who started to slowly unbutton his shirt from the top down, kissing his chest as he went. "Tell me," he murmured, raising his eyes to Richard's as he slid his finger behind a button and popped it casually, "when was the last time someone sucked your cock like they wanted to make you lose your mind?"

Richard could have sworn his brain flatlined there for a moment already. "I, uh, don't really remember," he finally grated out.

"That means it's been too long," Lee said smoothly, clacking his tongue. "I think we need to remedy that, don't you?"

To say that Richard was on board with that would have been the understatement of the century.

"I know for a fact," he warned, "that it's been long enough that the mere thought of your mouth going near my cock might get me off."

"Oh, I'm sure I can make you last longer than you think."

Richard would be lying if he said that he wasn't incredibly intrigued - and turned on - by the challenge in Lee's eyes, but when Lee's fingers went for the button on his pants, he reached out to stay his hand. "Should we be doing this, Lee?"

Lee smiled up at him. "It's Christmas day and we're basically snowed in - what else is there to do except have sex?" He tacked a wink at the end to make it clear that he was teasing, but Richard's response was in earnest.

"I feel like I should wine and dine you properly first. I'm an old-fashioned kind of bloke."

"I'd say yesterday stacks up to several dates, wouldn't you? There was wining, dining and an incredible goodnight kiss. We just took the fast track. And," he added when he saw Richard still wavering on the verge of doubt, "I wouldn't be opposed to many more dates to come after this. So really, when you think about it, it's a win-win situation."

At this, Richard laughed, relieved to know that Lee wasn't looking for a one off thing. "You sure have a way with that mouth."

Lee's response was immediate. "You haven't seen the best of me yet."

Before Lee followed through on those enticing words, however, he stretched himself out on top of Richard and ground down into him sinuously and patiently, watching Richard's eyelids flutter and his forehead crease with every roll of his hips, until all of Richard's misgivings had evaporated and passed into oblivion and he had no breath left in his lungs except for begging. And once that inner voice had been well and truly silenced, Lee crawled down once again and in less than a minute Richard was arching back into the pillows, his unbuttoned shirt parted down the front and his pants peeled away from his hips and his cock sucked deep into Lee's mouth, slipping wetly through the circle of his lips.

To Lee's credit, he did succeed in drawing it out longer than Richard had thought possible given his long streak of celibacy, but the constant wet heat and pressure that had him writhing and thrusting shamelessly soon tipped him over the edge and he spilled in Lee's mouth with a series of convulsions and a wail that must have ripped right through the thin hotel walls. And Lee remained still and quiet except for the soft sounds his throat made as he took it swallow after swallow, until Richard had spent it all and collapsed into the pillows panting, feeling utterly - and pleasantly - depleted in the aftermath of his orgasm. Lee pulled off with a satisfied hum and a parting lick, smirking triumphantly as he took in Richard's wrecked expression and flushed neck and chest. "I could be wrong," he teased in a gravelly voice that suggested a throat raw from the strain, "but you seemed to quite enjoy that."

Unable to give more than an inarticulate mutter in response, Richard reached down, grabbing Lee by his T-shirt and tugging him up. Misunderstanding the gesture, Lee sat up to pull his T-shirt off over his head, but it was not a misunderstanding Richard felt the need to complain about, especially when he had Lee on top of him half naked and could allow his hands to wander as they kissed languorously. It became progressively more heated, however, even on Richard's side as he tasted himself on Lee's tongue, which managed to coax a faint twitch from his spent cock, his fingers digging into Lee's back reflexively. And that, in turn, drew a reaction from Lee, his thighs squeezing Richard's hips as he ground down.

"God," Lee moaned, his breath hot against Richard's temple, "if I had some lube and a condom right now, I'd love nothing more than to pin you down on your stomach and fuck you until you forgot your own name."

Lee's words elicited another twitch down south, and Richard vowed then and there never to leave the house without condoms again. "Well," he replied, "that blowjob you just gave me will be a tough act to follow, but I am committed to trying my best."

Lee exhaled, long and slow. "You know you don't have to, though, right? I sucked your cock because I wanted to, not to make you feel obliged to reciprocate."

"Oh, I want to," Richard breathed, offering a smile that was answered by Lee. "Believe me, I do." He slid his hands down Lee's back, into the dip at the base and up the curve of his ass, squeezing. "So how about you lie down on your back for me and let me find out what I've got to work with?"

Lee hummed appreciatively. "Sure, I can do that."

Richard leaned up for another kiss, wrapping both arms around Lee's waist and rolling them over until Lee was lying back into the pillows and Richard had to properly admire him for a moment, trailing shy fingers down Lee's chest and stomach. "I could look at you for hours," he confessed, watching a blush of pleasure crawl up Lee's neck at the words. It was a long neck, like everything about him was long, and Richard's mind could not help but summon a variety of scenarios that included his teeth leaving marks in that fair skin.

Richard helped Lee out of his jeans - his own pants were still hanging off of his ass rather unflatteringly, but he was too focused on Lee to care - and slid down the bed to bring his face level with Lee's crotch. The tight black fabric of his briefs did little to hide the shape of his hard cock, and damn if that part of Lee's body didn't have length as well. Richard's jaw twinged with a phantom ache, and he leaned down to trace the curve of flesh with his mouth, feeling it twitch beneath his lips. Lee let out a tiny sigh, his legs shifting restlessly and his fingers grasping at the bed covers. Encouraged by this response, Richard continued mouthing his way up until he reached the head, pressing his lips to it deliberately and then parting them to fit them around it as best he could through the fabric. Lee's breathing became louder and harsher, his hands clutching at the covers curling into fists.

Richard kept at it, his attentions fully focused on the head as he lipped it patiently in circular motions. Locating the ridge and tracing it with his tongue drew the first groan from Lee, who'd drawn up his knees and lay back in a tense arch. "Fuck, Richard, I want your mouth," he panted. "I want your mouth so bad."

Richard hummed and sped up the movements of his tongue, savoring the responding tremors he felt passing through Lee's legs. He would not be able to keep himself from yanking those briefs down Lee's hips much longer.

"Richard, please-"

The words were cut off by the sound of a phone ringing. It was Lee's mobile, buzzing where it lay on the bedside table. One or two choice words went through Richard's head in that moment - he may even have said them out loud, but he wasn't sure.

"Shit." Lee scrambled for the phone, looking at the screen. "Unknown number... hold that thought, okay? Could be important."

Richard would be hard-pressed to think of anything more important than getting Lee off, but he took advantage of the interruption by shucking his pants and boxers off the rest of the way as Lee swiped at the screen of his phone to answer the call.

"Hello?" he said, and Richard was pleased to note that despite his best attempts at sounding normal, his voice was thick with lust. "Yes, this is Lee Pace. Ummm-" He trailed off briefly, distracted by the fact that Richard had hooked his fingers into his briefs and was pulling them down. "Sorry, could you repeat that? Oh - United Airlines?"

Richard's ears pricked up, a selfish sense of worry creeping up on him. If Lee's airline company had found a found a way to fly him to Houston, then all of Richard's wistful thoughts for how he wanted to spend the rest of his Christmas (specifically, learning all of the most sensitive spots on Lee's body and how loudly he could get him to moan) would come to nothing. Instead, he would be stuck alone in a shitty hotel room with an empty mini bar and no way to get back to the city, forced to watch daytime television (worse - daytime _Christmas_ television) and possibly jerk off a whole lot to thoughts of Lee and the memory of that stellar blowjob.

Well, if that was how things stood, he was dedicated to giving Lee something to fondly reminisce about as well. And truth be told, he did not feel inclined at all to wait until Lee finished his phone conversation.

So he settled down comfortably between Lee's legs, Lee's eyes going a little bit wide as Richard's fingers wrapped slowly around him and gave him a couple of tentative strokes. "Sorry, what?" he said into the phone. "I didn't catch that - oh, yes, flight 1161 to Houston. Yes, a terrible pity."

It did not come off sounding very genuine, and Richard smirked briefly, holding Lee's cock steady as he bent his head again and traced the tip of his tongue up its length. When he reached the head, he raised his eyes to Lee's face as he gently pressed his lips to it. He heard, faintly, the person on the other end of the line talking and wondered how much of it was actually registering with Lee, who seemed transfixed by the sight of Richard's mouth and what it was doing to his cock.

"Sorry, what was that?" he croaked, swallowing slowly. "Reception's really bad on my end. Oh, you do? Really? What time?"

A little flick of Richard's tongue in the right place had Lee's legs spasming, his knees drawing up further. _Stop that_ , Lee mouthed, but at the same time his hips twitched up encouragingly, his free hand finding Richard's and threading their fingers together, so Richard did not feel particularly obliged to obey. Still maintaining eye contact, he angled Lee's cock just so and slid the head into his mouth slowly, watching Lee's face contort as he inhaled a quick, sharp breath, eyes fluttering closed. Richard waited for them to open again before flicking the slit with the tip of his tongue and hollowing his cheeks as he started to suck. At that, Lee's mouth fell open on a soft exclamation of pleasure, and because he had no hands free to stifle it, his only option was to quickly angle the phone away from him. "Damn you," he breathed, "how am I supposed to hold a coherent conversation when all I can think of is that beautiful mouth of yours on my cock?"

Richard gave him a semblance of a smirk and sucked a little harder for good measure, treating Lee to another series of teasing flicks and swirls of his tongue at the same time.

Lee lifted the phone back to his ear. "Yes, I'm still here. I, umm, stubbed my toe." Richard chortled in response to the lame excuse, the vibration earning him a shiver from Lee. "Yeah, I know, it does hurt like a-- well, better not finish that thought. It's Christmas, after all. So, you were saying something about a flight?"

The words seemed to confirm Richard's worst suspicions, and he pulled off to anxiously await the outcome (his anxiety tripled by the fact that Lee made a point of avoiding his eyes as he listened to what the airline employee was saying, a sure sign that Richard wasn't going to like what he heard).

"Half past one?" Lee checked his watch, biting his lip pensively before looking up at Richard, who did his very best to smile encouragingly even as his heart sank. He must even have succeeded, because Lee answered with a smile of his own. "Unfortunately, I don't think I can make that at all. It appears that something else has come up unexpectedly. Something better, and it's made me go off Houston completely. Yeah, imagine that." He chuckled, and Richard's spirits skyrocketed when the meaning of what Lee was saying sunk in. "So, thanks for your kind offer, but you can take my name off the waiting list for any flights leaving today. Yes, I'm sure. I'll wager that you can find a whole bunch of people who want that seat more than I do. If you have something for the 27th or the 28th, then-"

Lee, clearly impatient for the call to end, rolled his eyes at Richard as the airline employee apparently checked the system for available flights. "Look - can I call you back at a later time, uh, what's your name?" A pause. "I'll get back to you, Cynthia, but now I'm going to have to hang up, because there's a distractingly beautiful man in my bed, so you'll understand. Ah, no worries. Okay, thank you, and merry Christmas. Bye." With one push of the button, he switched the phone off before tossing it away. "Sorry for the interruption," he said, his smile faltering somewhat when he saw the stunned look Richard gave him. "What?"

"I can't believe you passed on that flight," Richard breathed. "You could have been with your family in a few hours. Instead you choose to stay here in this seedy hotel with someone you barely know."

"Correction: someone I barely know but happen to like a whole lot. Someone who, not unimportantly, has promised me a spectacular blowjob." Lee's smile returned in full force, and he reached out to slowly brush his thumb over Richard's bottom lip. "It's called having one's priorities in order."

"Cynthia may agree with that, but I don't think your parents would," Richard said drily.

"My parents don't need to know I was offered a replacing flight until a few years down the line. Or possibly ever. Besides, their house is packed up to the rafters with family members, so there is no need to feel sorry for them. Leaving you here by yourself would be far worse - hardly in the spirit of Christmas." Lee propped himself up on his elbows, a challenge glittering in his eyes. "So, now that I can appreciate the sight of you between my legs the way it ought to be appreciated - without distractions - any chance of you picking things up where you left off?"

As he put himself to the task of doing exactly that, any concerns Richard previously may have had about his abilities to deliver a halfway decent blowjob, let alone a spectacular one, were quickly left in the dust. He'd feared being rusty - it had been quite a long time, after all - but he was reassured to discover that the skill of sucking a cock well was not lost as easily as all that. It surely helped that it was something he enjoyed doing tremendously (unlike one or two of his former boyfriends, who seemed happy enough to be on the receiving end but never showed much willingness to reciprocate) and that Lee was an extremely grateful subject, his reactions growing stronger and his gasps and moans crescendoing the more of him Richard took down his throat. And although Richard regretfully had to break eye contact at a certain point, the image of Lee leaning back on his elbows in an exaggerated arch, knees drawn up and heels planted into the bed, remained seared into his brain, acting as a powerful stimulus.

It took Richard a minute or two to get fully adjusted to the feeling, but once he settled into a comfortable, continuous rhythm, his throat accepting the full length of Lee's cock on the downslide, Lee was in a right state, the litany of his accompanying curses so colorful that Richard had to wonder if Lee had ever experienced a deep throating before. It would be nothing less than a crime, but on a purely selfish level, Richard wouldn't mind claiming the credit for this first.

"Oh, fuck," Lee groaned, shifting his weight to one elbow and sliding his free hand over Richard's head to grip the hair at the back of his skull. "Fuck, yeah, Richard. God, it's good. It's so fucking good."

Richard moaned, knowing that the vibrations would carry through to all the right places in Lee's body. He was near overwhelmed by the sensations and the heat and the taste, by the pressure of Lee's fingers on the back of his head, alternately scraping his scalp and tugging at his hair, and he was distantly aware of the fact that he was firmly on the way to getting hard again himself, undoubtedly the result of Lee's incredibly enthusiastic responses. All of a sudden his vaguely formed plan to bring Lee to the edge and keep him there as long as he could became far and away secondary to another desire that took hold of him - the instinctive need to get Lee there as soon as possible, to feel that hot rush on his tongue and find out what his come tasted like.

Once Richard's hands released Lee's hips, leaving him free to move and thrust as he wanted, it was over soon. Lee tried to sustain his position, but the arm bearing the brunt of his weight soon gave out and he collapsed back into the pillows, so he had to settle for guiding Richard's head with one hand and grabbing Richard's wrist with the other to anchor himself as he hurtled towards the end, squeezing so hard that Richard thought his hand might come off. And then he went strangely silent, one final, strong gasp escaping him as he arched back and almost pulled Richard's arm out of its socket and the taste of salt filled Richard's mouth, the warmth of it sliding down his throat as he swallowed and moaned around Lee's pulsing cock. The blunt edges of Lee's nails were buried deep in his scalp, keeping him right where he wanted to be while Lee rode out his orgasm.

When it was over, Lee's body gone limp except for the claw buried in Richard's hair, Richard gently disentangled himself and pulled off of Lee's cock, leaving it wet and softening. His own was fully hard again, a fact that was not lost on Lee as he sluggishly pulled Richard up to him. "Oh wow," he murmured, mouth curling into a lazy smile. "Really, Richard?"

Richard gave a self-conscious smile back. "Sorry."

"Hey, don't be. Just give me a minute - or ten - to recover from the incredible things you just did to me, and I'll see what I can do." Lee tugged at Richard's shirt with clumsy hands, helping him out of it as best he could. It was one of Richard's best shirts, but he tossed it away without a thought and let out a happy sigh as they settled into a skin-to-skin embrace, gazing into each other's eyes. Richard wondered if the awe he saw in Lee's eyes was a reflection of his own.

"I gotta say," Lee chuckled after a while, "this is not how I had expected to spend Christmas morning at all, but I'm not complaining."

Richard hummed in agreement. He would have felt guilty admitting it out loud, but in his view, Christmas '15 was shaping up rather better than expected. "We'll miss breakfast at this rate, though." He was loath to say it, because growling stomach aside, he would be more than happy to stay in bed like this all day and catalogue the different ways he could get Lee off barring fucking.

"I think it's safe to say we will, if we didn't already." Richard was relieved to note that Lee didn't seem bothered, one of his hands starting to roam south, sliding around to the back to squeeze a buttock. "But you know what?"

Richard closed his eyes and shivered, Lee's low voice against his ear full of promise. "Hmmm?"

"That's what room service was invented for."


End file.
